


the heat of the sun

by ziskandra



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Getting Together, Multi, POV Garrus Vakarian, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: While keeping vigil at the bedside of the woman they both love, Kaidan and Garrus come to an understanding.(Or: there's no roadmap for surviving the end of the universe.)
Relationships: Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20
Collections: Holly Poly 2020





	the heat of the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mephale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mephale/gifts).



For the first few weeks, Garrus keeps his vigil by Shepard’s hospital bed in companionable silence with Major Alenko. It isn’t that their former commander, saviour of the whole-damned-galaxy, doesn’t receive any other visitors. Quite to the contrary, in fact: there’s a veritable stream of well-wishers waiting to pay their respects. It’s like everyone still stranded in the entire Sol system wants to leave Shepard a card or some flowers, some token of their appreciation, as though she’d ever been the type of person who cared about such gestures.

No, what distinguishes Garrus and Kaidan from the other guests is that they’re the only ones who never _leave_.

The nurses and other hospital staff have long given up trying to convince them to head home. Where’s Garrus supposed to go, anyway? Palaven is out of the question, unreachable for now due to destruction unleashed on the mass relays, and the only other place he’s ever felt truly at home has been by Shepard’s side.

So, he stays right here, where he belongs.

But one day, curiosity or perhaps the deafening silence gets the better of him as he whittles the days away with Kaidan. Massaging his misgivings, he side-steps their shared fraught history with the Commander and asks, “Why don’t you go home to your family?”

Fire flashes in Kaidan’s eyes, a flicker of the passion that Garrus once knew the major capable of below the weight of rank and regulations and the crushing exhaustion of everything they’ve been through. For the first time in a long while, Kaidan looks like a _person_ , not a mere hollowed-out shell of a man.

They might be entirely different species, but when Garrus looks at Kaidan, sometimes he can’t help but feel like he’s looking in a mirror, albeit one warped by the heat of the sun.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Kaidan bites out, but then he sighs, inner flame puttering, a hand moving upwards to rub at the back of his neck as though to diffuse some nervous tension that’s settled there. “Actually. Maybe you’re the only one who would.”

And there it is, Garrus realises: the truth is laid out bare before him, all his well-founded suspicious confirmed. Major Alenko still feels the same way about Shepard that Garrus did (does), but had done his best to take Shepard’s rejection in stride, just like Garrus had.

They have been marching in parallel, only for their courses to diverge and collide at the end of the war. There’s no roadmap for surviving the end of the universe. A muscle twitches in Garrus’s mandibles. He’s clenching.

Letting out a breath of his own, he answers, “Yeah, I do. Which is why I think getting out of here might do us a world of good.” At Kaidan’s incredulous expression, Garrus hastens to add, “Not for long. Just for an hour or two. Coffee? On me.” He thinks those are the right words to say, hopes he’s getting the hang of these human customs. They dance around what’s better off left unsaid: that’s nothing’s going to change soon, that their presence here won’t hasten the pace of Shepard’s recovery, that they’re floating, bereft, just like the last time.

At least now, they have each other’s company, and Kaidan must be thinking it too, for his eyes soften, and he even chances the smallest of smiles. Or at least, Garrus hopes it’s a smile.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

*

The weeks stretch into months, and the two of them develop a routine.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” protests Garrus as Kaidan saunters back into the waiting room, two steaming hot caffeinated beverages balanced precariously in a drink tray. There’s got to be an easier way of carrying them, Garrus thinks. It’s 2187.

But most importantly, dextro-based food is getting harder to come by, especially with the limited supply lines, and if Kaidan keeps insisting on being the one to go out and buy their drinks, he’s going to run out of money.

“Wanted to,” Kaidan answers simply, pushing Garrus’s cup into his hands. The dark bags that had once been ever-present under his eyes are almost absent entirely. He even smiles more often these days, and not in the disconcerting way humans so often did, all bared teeth that sends a shiver across Garrus’s carapace. No, the corners of Kaidan’s eyes crinkle with the curve of his lips, bringing out the warmth of his irises, and when Garrus catches his gaze, he ducks his head, embarrassed to be caught staring.

Maybe, just maybe, it causes a shiver of a different sort, but he doesn’t know what to think about that right now, pushes the reaction aside, out of mind, until he’s better able to process it.

In any case, they’ve both sleeping better these days, having finally relented and booked a long-stay hotel room around the corner from the hospital on the promise they’d be notified immediately if there was any change in Shepard’s condition.

Their omnitools have stayed silent thus far, but that’s fine. Silence has gotten them this far, and so long as there’s no evidence to the contrary, Garrus continues holds on, day in and day out.

Hope is innate as breathing.

A doctor trundles down the hallway, not an unfamiliar sight in the hospital. But this time, she stops at the doorway of the waiting room, taking a deep breath before crossing the threshold. Before the doctor even has a chance to speak, Garrus can’t help but feel that something has changed, like the air in the room has changed in weight, threatening to choke him.

“She’s awake,” the doctor says, but Garrus barely hears her, instead focused on the tingle of his skin and his tunnelling vision. He feels a hand at his elbow, steadying him. Kaidan.

There are so many questions on the forefront of Garrus’s mind, and they all threaten to burst out of him at once. Can he see her? Does she want to see him? What if she decides she’d prefer to see Kaidan first? He couldn’t fault her for that, had never (would never) fault her for any of her decisions, but his heart clenches like there’s a vice around his chest.

It doesn’t matter how she feels about him, he tells himself. Only what he thinks of her. That’s what he tries to tell himself, anyway.

Maybe he’s been lying to himself about the reasons he’s been waiting this whole time.

Maybe, despite everything, he still wanted to believe he had a _chance_.

Distantly, he’s aware of Kaidan speaking with the doctor, their heads bowed low together. Vision still swimming, Garrus recalls when they had tried to place Shepard’s name on the Normandy’s memorial wall. Neither he nor Kaidan could bring themselves to put the plaque up, foolhardy optimism overriding the need to ensure Shepard’s sacrifice was properly commemorated.

In the end, Liara had plucked the nameplate from their hands, but even she hadn’t the heart to slide it into place.

They’d know, they’d all known, that one day, Shepard would wake up.

Pity that they’d never given any thought to what would come _after_.

*

It’s several more months before Shepard is ready for any extensive conversation. Kaidan and Garrus’s short visits mostly consist of sitting by her bedside, each holding one of her hands as she flutters in and out of consciousness, alternating between the companionable-turned-comfortable silence which has shaped so much of how Garrus and Kaidan regard each other, and updating Shepard on the endeavours of their old teammates, or even just poking fun at each other’s living habits.

“Garrus keeps leaving his nutrient bar wrappers everywhere,” says Kaidan, the complaint tinged with a surprising amount of fondness, like it’s an endearing character trait and not an annoyance.

Garrus’s mandible twitches in faux outrage. “That packaging is not made for turian fingers. Not that I know why a human needs to open a dextro-based nutribar.”

“I don’t know,” says Kaidan with a shrug. “Maybe they want to see if they have a dextro allergy before, you know…” He flushes and turns his head, but not before Shepard lets out a snort of laughter. Garrus chortles too – once upon a time, he wouldn’t have thought that Kaidan had it in him to make a joke like that.

It’s strange how quickly everything can change, people shift, relationships develop.

Once upon a time, Garrus would have described Kaidan as a valued member of Shepard’s team, and a damned good soldier. But there’s different words Garrus would use these days, even if he hasn’t quite found them yet, still doesn’t know how to describe the ache and longing in his chest.

What does he want? Who does he want?

He barely knows.

“You know laughing makes my lungs hurt,” Shepard says, and Garrus rubs soft, encouraging circles with his thumb against her hand. It’s one of the longest sentences he’s heard her manage, and she hadn’t even wheezed halfway through it. There’s a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead from the exertion, but she doesn’t seem to let it bother her. “You two are like an old married couple, I swear.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Garrus sees Kaidan freeze. His own thumb continues running in mindless circles, a physical manifestation of his mind’s inner processes as he reassesses, recalibrates.

Both he and Kaidan start talking at once, but their protests fade at the grin that stretches across Shepard’s face. She looks like… like … how did the saying go? Like the fox that swallowed the flamingo. _Self-satisfied._

Squeezing both their hands, Shepard makes a promise. “When I get out of here, we’re going to talk about this. All of this. Like adults.”

Garrus only hopes she has a clearer idea of what’s happening here than he does.

*

On the anniversary of the final push on Earth, Garrus still hasn’t left the planet. In less than six months from now, travel to the Trebia system will be viable again. But even if does return to Palaven, it will only be temporary. A holiday, at best. Maybe they’ll be able to visit Garrus’s family, the three of them, just like they’d visited Kaidan’s parents last summer. 

The people he loves are here, on Earth, but wherever they go, he intends to follow, for waking up nestled between two humans had somehow become the favourite part of his day, despite how he might have laughed at the idea twelve months ago.

But how can he not feel anything other than that he is right where he belongs right now, with Shepard’s arm braced against his carapace and one of his legs draped over Kaidan’s? Garrus barely needs his specialised pillow with Shepard and Kaidan by his side.

Who could have known that the most comfortable place for a turian to sleep when sharing a bed with two humans was right in the middle?


End file.
